


Man of Passion, Force of Nature

by BeautifullyObsessed



Category: Khan - Fandom, Khan Noonien Singh - Fandom, Khanbatch - Fandom, Star Trek, Star Trek Alternate Timeline Movies, Star Trek Into Darkness - Fandom, star trek kelvin timeline
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fellatio, Lust, NSFW, Oral Sex, Passion, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:27:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29380641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifullyObsessed/pseuds/BeautifullyObsessed
Summary: Fulfillment of a tumblr prompt:  "I wish you would write a fic where Khan meets a woman who's unattainable and decides then and there that she must be his. ;)"This story takes place in the waning days of the Eugenics Wars, hundreds of years before the events of the alternate timeline in the Star Trek universe. Khan Noonien Singh, leader of the Augments, attempts to secure a dubious ally to bolster his forces as he battles for the survival of his people--and discovers an unexpected ally that immediately piques his blood with untameable desire.In addition, this Khan does not share the same backstory as the Khan in my long-running WIP, A Khan By Any Other Name.
Relationships: Khan Noonien Singh/OFC, Khan/OFC
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

As a disciplined strategist and implacable, consummate warrior, Khan despised all the useless trappings of diplomacy, and even more so, having to engage personally in diplomatic negotiations–-loathing to his core, the obsequious smiles, the false and fawning patience, the need to speak between the lines rather than directly and without gilding the lily. Under normal conditions, he had counselors to do that for him. Unfortunately, he so desperately needed the help of this puffed-up, half-mad warlord that he had been forced to commit to this meeting himself. It was that, or lose the continent in the battle to come, for lack of troops enough to guard his flank.

Ruthless and unpredictable, Pranav Khatri had made his fortune through human trafficking and the drug trade, leaving in his wake countless dead, lesser thugs as he consolidated his power, personnel, and wealth. In a show of one-upsmanship, he was already twenty minutes late for the meeting, which had Khan pacing the room like an impatient big cat in a cage, while closely reconsidering how he might marshall his own forces to achieve victory without needing to rely on a pitiful, fallable, all too human, ally.

His superhuman senses alerted him to Khatri’s arrival well before the warlord and his party entered the empty conference room. He caught their scent as they approached—a mix of stale body odors overlaid with expensive cologne, along with the redolent spices of the last communal meal they had shared. In just a few moments more, he heard the varied treads of nearly a score of people. Khan was mildly surprised to note the soft slide of satin slippers among the heavy tromp of military boots—that would be Khatri’s favorite concubines; he always kept a few close at hand wherever he traveled, as a show of status. Though Khan viewed that practice as barbaric, it was of little consequence to the coming negotiations. He also detected the clack of a single pair of woman’s heels, which immediately intrigued him.

Two of Khan’s most trusted lieutenants proceeded the party, signaling to him that all had been screened for weapons and any hidden incendiary devices. The bounty on Khan’s head was the highest in modern history, a sure temptation to someone as unscrupulous as Khatri.

Pranav Khatri swept into the room as though he was a king approaching his throne, with Khan watching silently, concealing his disdain for Khatri’s boisterous swagger and carefully studying each member of the contingent to ascertain that they were exactly what they appeared to be. The warlord halted before Khan, looked him up and down, and then raised his right arm to signal his translator to come forth.

The group behind him parted as a tall, slender female moved forward to Khatri’s side. Khan smiled inwardly; _of course, the owner of those clacking heels. This may prove interesting after all._

Khatri addressed the woman in the curt, guttural dialect of his home province, and she nodded compliantly before turning to face the leader of The Augments. A pair of luminescent, sea green eyes lined in khol and shaded by a thick, dark fringe of lashes gazed boldly up into his own, and for a heartbeat he felt her strive to measure his mettle.

In that moment, it suddenly felt as though the room had gone silent around him, for the only sound he heard was his own respiration. How odd it felt to have such lovely eyes attempt to dissect him. Bold eyes, but soft as well, and instinct told him they were eyes that had seen unspeakable things and lived to tell the tale. But then the woman blinked and dragged her eyes away—leaving Khan with the inexplicable urge to force her to look his way again. _What the hell_ …

“You are the Khan who seeks the help of…” her voice was smooth and rich, with a delicious, smokey quality which raised the hairs on the back of his neck. _That’s_ _a voice meant to speak in a man’s bedchamber under cover of darkness_ , he mused, immediately banishing that thought as _non sequitur_. “…the help of my…” A moue of distaste flickered across her face, “…Master?”

Khan might have laughed aloud at such a ridiculous concept, but that he felt the woman’s distress—and found himself wishing that if it were so, he might forcibly correct the situation. He took a single step closer to her, his eyes cataloging her sublimely compelling physical details. Soft, dark brown hair shot through with swaths of dark honey, secured in a professional looking updo. Smooth, tawny brown skin, free of any age-defining creases, and which his fingers already ached to touch. Those expressive, almond-shaped eyes which had so swiftly captured his imagination. An aquiline nose above plush, full lips and a dimpled chin. A long neck, coupled with long, graceful limbs, and generous curves that spoke her femininity most eloquently.

Having detected a trace of a French accent, Khan gave answer in one of the dozen languages he was most fluent in. “Tell me please, _ma chere_ , that you are _not_ a concubine to this foul, little man.”

Her pretty lips parted in surprise—at the question, at his choice of language, or possibly both—and he couldn’t help wondering about their flavor. And how they might feel pressed to his own. Or how divine it would be to have them wrapped around the head of his harded cock, and what sort of sounds she might give over as she tasted him. As she _pleasured_ him. A rush of heat filled his groin, though he mastered that impulse as best he could.

Unaware of his sinful considerations, she gave him a small smile and replied—much to his relief—in flawless French. “God help me, no! It’s more of an…indentured servitude.”

“Involuntary, then?”

“ _Oui_. Entirely so…”

At that, Khatri thrust himself forward, rattling at her in his native dialect. Smooth as silk, she turned his way and gave answer enough to placate him, and then returned her attention to Khan. “Tell me quickly, _ma chere_ ,” he demanded,”If I can arrange it, would you be free of this beast?”

She tilted her head and lowered her lashes, clearly trapped between her desire for the hope he offered and the looming threat at her back. When she dared to meet his eyes again, a bloom of hectic color filled her cheeks. “You would do that for me, Sir?” she asked breathlessly, “What price would I need to pay?”

Khan inhaled deeply, sensing both her eager pliability and her visceral attraction to him as her proffered savior. “At the least, information enough to allow me to eliminate this buffoon, thus providing me full control of his people.” Khan paused and flashed his best false smile at Khatri. “The rest,” he growled,mastering her gaze once more and liking the blend of fledgling hope and sure desire he now read in her clear, bright eyes, “…will be… _negotiable_.”


	2. Chapter 2

Having obtained the tacit cooperation of Khatri’s _délicieuse_ translator, Khan knew that he was fully in charge of the proceedings and deemed the best way to continue was to appear to be in a position of weakness. He was now the grand chess master dealing with a mind barely able to grasp the concept of checkers, and as part of the gambit, he easily adopted an ingratiating manner, blinding his opponent with servile, banal flattery.

The woman who spoke for Khatri was bright enough to understand Khan’s ploy–and coupled with the ease she showed joining in with the deception, quickly had him growing further entranced. The unfaltering trust she had so speedily granted him along with her evident attraction to him–her frequent, lingering eye contact and soft gasps for air when he focused his attention upon her alone; the appraising tilt of her head as she watched him and the repeated dart of her tongue to moisten her pouty lips–served to sharpen his desire for the opportunity to have her to himself. As to a razor’s edge.

And thus the game continued, Khan instructing her in exactly what to tell Khatri, while plying her with a series of simple questions to elicit intelligence enough for him to come up with the rough draft of a plan. He would prefer she not be implicated in the aftermath of the deception, and even more, intended to ensure her safety–with an eager eye to the hours of celebration they would share in the velvet dark of whatever night followed upon his success.

Deep into their negotiations, Khatri–truly a base and carnal brute by the size and heft of him–called for refreshment, and his concubines came forward to set the table with delicacies and drink enough for all present. Khan himself planned to play the ascetic for safety’s sake, and because his _true_ appetite could not be satisfied by such an offering. Instead, he found his place at his secret ally’s right hand, close enough to enjoy the scent of jasmine mixed with ginger which arose from both her skin and hair. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, speculating about the more intimate scents he would eventually discover in exploration of her most secret, sacred places. Though such thoughts entangled with his dire mission were utterly uncharacteristic, his confidence in his coming success was strong enough for him to allow himself the distraction.

And such a warm and pleasant distraction this unlooked for, exotic flower was proving to be! Eyes lowered decorously while she stretched her thigh beneath the table, letting it lay against his own. The minute tremble of her hand as she pushed the goblet she had drunk from towards him, explaining _sotto voce_ that she had sampled the wine inside just to prove to him he could safely consume it. Khan growled low enough for her ears alone, while the dullard across the table guffawed at some idiot jest one of his men had made. “ _Je préfère goûter ça de_ _tes lèvres à la place, ma_ _chère,”_ hedared, mesmerized by the flush of color that swiftly rose from her throat unto her cheeks. “But you _must_ tell me your name, _ma douce fluer_ , so I may imagine sighing it against your skin once my victory is achieved.”

Her eyes went wide and the quiver of her lips was almost too enticing to resist. “Do you tease me, Sir? Or do you honestly mean to be my savior _and_ my lover?”

“ _Oui, ma chere_. The sooner the better to be…for both our sakes.”

She shot a quick but cautious look across the table, considering her answer and then seemed to brace herself before replying. “ _Mon nom_ _est…Marie-Thérèse,”_ she panted softly, an unexpected wariness darkening her soft eyes, “ _Marie-Thérèse_ …Khatri.”

Khan’s mouth went dry while a sudden bloom of fury crashed into the warm possessiveness that he had been harboring in his chest. “Khatri,” he hissed, and clamped a powerful hand upon her thigh beneath the table, causing her to whimper quietly, while wondering if he had actually been played for a fool by such a simple creature. “Explain yourself, Marie-Thérèse,” he demanded, spitting out her name like a curse while tightening his grip on her–so that she covered her mouth with a shaking hand to still a cry of pain. Khan silently cursed himself, unsure if the tears that filled her eyes were real or just a ruse to reinforce her deception. “Quickly, woman,” he added through gritted teeth, “I would know your true connection here, before I place a further moment’s trust in you!”


	3. Chapter 3

Aware that he must bank his outrage lest it be observed and cause the undoing of his plans, Khan took a long draught of his wine, his eyes still focused upon Marie-Thérèse above the rim of the cup. He released her from his iron grasp and raised a single brow, letting the intensity of his gaze speak for him.

She drew a deep breath, raising her chin, and in that quiet, fearless act, somehow took on the regality of some ancient Hindu goddess, whetting the desire that already flowed in his veins. Her eyes blazed as they boldly met his. “He is my uncle. My father’s brother.”

Khan narrowed his eyes, looking for any sign of obfuscation. “Yet you claim you serve him against your will…”

She flicked her eyes in her uncle’s direction as she assured herself that he was unaware of the course their conversation had taken, “And I swear that is true. My father owes a great debt to his brother, and _I_ am required to make good on it.”

“What sort of debt?" 

A small, sad smile ghosted upon her lips, just as she answered. "For a betrayal of sorts. And so, I am made hostage to my father’s foolishness.” She bowed her head and picked at the food on the plate in front of her.

He set the goblet down, his voice grown soft not only for the sake of privacy, but also in sympathy for her obvious conflicting emotions. “And you would betray him as well?”

“With all my heart,” she whispered, “My father acted carelessly, with no regard for how his actions would affect my mother and I.” She rested her chin on her palm, covering the fall of tears on her cheek, to prevent any but Khan from noticing. “In the end, they led to my mother’s death, and…and I was placed on house arrest along with my father.”

Khan nodded almost imperceptibly, weighing his options when set against the pathos of her story. “And what of your father, should you play traitor to your uncle?”

Marie-Thérèse gave a bitter huff, “I would say let him sleep in the bed that he made–but with my uncle… _removed_ …his life would be his own to live again.” Earnestly, she let her eyes linger on his, “As would mine, for me.”

“I see.” He drained his remaining wine, glancing around the room as he did so, taking stock of his position and the information that she had already given him. Khan waited several beats, feeling her watch him as her fate was truly in his hands now. “Well then, _ma chérie_ , we will proceed as I have already indicated." 

Her lips parted as though she meant to tender her gratitude, but he silenced her with a shake of his head, laying a single finger across his own lips. "But do not think for a moment to double cross me…” he warned, as his smile turned feral, “…for the vengeance I will exact is beyond _anything_ you could _possibly_ imagine”

She regarded him with the same courage that she’d shown when revealing her connection to Khatri. "Understood.” She bit her lip prettily as her eyes dropped to his, and he honestly couldn’t say if it was a ploy meant to bolster his trust, or another unconscious signal of her attraction to him. Khan decided he didn’t care–for either way, she was his already, their consummation predetermined and only awaiting the successful completion of the strike he had planned on her uncle’s compound.

* * *

The remaining “negotiations” were completed in less than an hour, with Pranav believing he had obtained everything he had come to the table seeking, along with the promise of a cushy place in Khan’s government at the successful conclusion of the current Eugenics War. Khan had contrived a means to ensure that his captivating littletranslatorwould be safely under his protection at the crucial hour, ostensibly as a guarantee of her uncle’s loyalty–making it clear to Khatri that his interest in her went beyond their business dealings. The fool lived down to Khan’s low expectations, practically offering to sell the girl to him permanently if she served to please him well.

Playing the part of a man entranced to the point of carelessness, Khan had taken her hand at the moment of departure, smiling at her wolfishly, then bending close. “I will send for you soon, _ma chérie_. When the timing is perfect.” He had kissed her knuckles, looking up at her knowingly, unwilling to let go quite yet. “Then we’ll begin to explore the…full depth of our friendship.”

“Friendship,” she murmured, and he smiled even wider, knowing she was lost in his magnetism. “We’re going to be…friends,” she blushed, and gave a little sigh. “My friends…they call me Tess…well, when I was still in the world and had friends…”

“Well, Tess it is then,” he tutted, stroking across her knuckles with his long thumb, “And you…you may call me Noonien.”

She had nodded as she backed away, unable to tear her eyes from him until she reached the door jam and followed her uncle out of the room.

* * *

Two and a half days passed until Khan had all the pieces in place to liquidate Pranav Khatri and his personal cadre and seize his assets. The attack would be swift and devastating, and by dawn the next day, the forces once dedicated to drug running and human trafficking would be integrated with Khan’s armies in defense of his growing territory. This could very well make the final difference in the series of wars which the Augments had been forced to fight for their very survival–and for the eventual betterment of humankind.

Following a final session with the commanders of his three stealth teams, Khan had retired to his room seeking the calm of meditation, as he always did before armed conflict. He centered his mind and purged himself of distracting, extraneous emotion, awakening some of the many gifts that came with the genetic manipulation that had created him. Dispassion and a laser-focus. The ability to think ten steps ahead of his opponents. And the willingness to forgo mercy if it was a threat to the success of his endeavors.

He was taking a meal in the privacy of his room when there came a rapping on his door. Joachim, one of his most trusted personal guards entered, excusing himself for the interruption, informing him a guest had arrived and was seeking audience.

Khan smiled to himself, a delicious shiver of anticipation running along his spine and solar plexus. “A young woman with eyes like sea emeralds?”

“Yes, Sir. She was installed in the second floor guest quarters, but she requested an audience with you before nightfall.”

Khan nodded, pleased with the surprise, for he had not intended to see her until after successfully defeating her uncle. “Bring her to me, please, Joachim.” He was picturing the naked desire in those eyes when they had last parted. And of the fantasy he’d allowed himself as he drifted to sleep that same night, in which she’d twined her arms around his neck and begged him to fill her. “And see to it we’re not disturbed, Joachim,” he added, covering the remains of his meal with the large linen napkin, and then grabbing a fresh shirt from his dresser. 

Once changed, he sat on the edge of his desk, senses on high alert, waiting to hear her light tread outside his door. “Come in,” he commanded, the moment that she knocked.

She wore her hair down this evening, thick and lustrous, hanging past her shoulder blades, and he knew she had done so for him. The light of his sitting room/study cast a golden glow upon her youthful, tawny brown skin, a sight that marked her as more beautiful than any mere precious metal could ever be. Khan smiled and held out a hand to beckon her close, his eyes sliding appreciatively across the dusky pink of the humble, formless shift she wore “I had planned to wait until matters with your employer are completed,” he told her magnanimously, “But now that you’re here, I’m questioning that wisdom, _ma_ _chérie_. My lovely Tess.”

Moving towards him cautiously while wrapping her arms across her chest as though fending off a chill, she bowed her head before addressing him, “Noonien.” His name was soft coming from her tongue. “I hope I have not disturbed you–but there is a matter I must address with you.” She was close enough now for him to note she was trembling again; Khan had shamelessly admitted to those few men he considered friends, that he would never tire of such a compliment to his masculinity, in the women he took for lovers. 

But something was off with his Tess–for there was a vital fear in her eyes, and instinct told him it was not on account of any trepidation she might have about giving herself to him. He was off his desk before she had halted before him. “What troubles you, my sweet? Is there some matter at stake that might affect my plans?”

How pained she looked at his questions, and that served to raise his hackles. “No…Noonien…” Again, he felt a quiet thrill to hear her speak his given name. “…and yet, if I might appeal to your heart, then yes as well.”

Confused and confounded by her mysterious answer, as well as the mystery of her unanticipated visit to his rooms, Khan strove for patience. “Make…make your appeal–though you know I may have to decline your plea in the interests of greater matters.”

“I understand,” she told him breathlessly, and he sensed in her a spark of hope, “I know that your assault is imminent, and that…as so…it may be too late to adjust your plans.”

“Yeeeeeeeees…”

Tess took his hand between her two, her skin startlingly cool as she held on, and raised his hand to kiss it carefully. “You are a wise and great leader, Noonien. Fearless and unstoppable…”

“There is no need for flattery, my sweet. And little time for it, either.”

“Yes…yes.” She swallowed hard, determination now in the set of her brow. “I have come to beg for mercy…not…not for my uncle and his men…but…but for those whose lives are treated as though they have little value, yet deserve to live until tomorrow, as much as you. And I.”

Khan nodded in sudden, perfect understanding, pleased that she was brave enough to ask, and in doing so had demonstrated he full faith in him. “The concubines.”

“Yes,” she exclaimed in relief, “Yes. Like me, most of them had no choice but to submit to Pranav’s tyranny. They have families, and in some cases, young children that they’ve been forced to leave behind. In your mercy, can you not find a way to save them from the attack…and keep them safe in the aftermath?”

“Hmmmmm.” He let fall her hands and paced away, considering her gentle request, while Tess remained silent. “Changing my plan so close to fruition may present difficulties…”

“I understand. I wish it could be otherwise…”

“I know,” he acknowledged, returning to stand before her, “Your request is not impossible–and I have, in fact, _always_ made it a priority to spare innocent lives wherever psossible. Though the reputation that proceeds me rarely credits me for such.”

Tess beamed with gratitude, “Then may I assume you will do what you can?" 

Khan reached to cup her cheek in his hand, stepping close so there was little space between them. "For your courage alone in asking, I will do my best.” She closed her eyes and nestled into his palm, and he found himself in wonder at her gentle nature, despite her experiences in her uncle’s rough world. “But I cannot guarantee a perfect outcome. Is this acceptable to you?”

“Yes…oh yes,” she nodded vigorously, “And I will… _happily_ …remain in _your_ debt for this mercy.”

_No doubt you will_ , he thought, his blood grown warm with foreknowledge of the ways he would collect upon that promise. “If I am to make the necessary changes to our plan of attack, I must meet with my people now…”

“Of course,” she smiled, though she lingered as though waiting for his formal dismissal. 

“Return to your quarters, and I will send for you upon my return.”

“Of course,” she repeated, gone breathless in a way that made him feel breathless himself. “I will pray for _your_ safety above all else, Noonien…” 

Khan read her kiss coming, happy to sample her softness and tender compliance as a taste of things to come. Tess laid one hand upon his chest, the other against his neck, rising up on her toes to reach his lips with hers. A little tentative at first, she brushed his mouth so softly, but when he pulled her to him, her kiss blossomed, taking his bottom lip between hers, teasing her tongue along it, before slowly pulling away. It tingled from the pleasure and begged for an immediate return.

Tess felt as light as the sweetest of dreams in his arms, her hidden, supple curves a delicious temptation. Khan’s kiss went long and deep, tasting her thoroughly until they both needed to break and gasp for air. “It’s best you leave me now, _ma_ _chérie,”_ he forced himself to say, _“…_ or I may forget my purpose in favor of tasting _all_ of you.”

Reluctantly–oh _so_ reluctantly, he would be happy to remember in the hours until they met again–she backed away, casting him a hopeful smile and a shy nod before she left his room.


	4. Chapter 4

Khan returned to his rooms around 2am, having dispatched several units throughout the region, to confirm in person among Khatri’s strongholds that the warlord and most of those residing in his compound had perished in a tragic conflagration. One that had moved with such speed and abandon, that local emergency personnel were helpless to tame it, and had been forced to let it burn itself out. There would be no survivors, and it was Khan’s intention to remind Khatri’s forces that they had been pledged to serve his cause. As had been agreed upon between the leader of the Augments and their late commander, their service would continue with a ten percent pay raise, guaranteed by the Khan himself. They were to remain where quartered, awaiting orders as to where they would be deployed.

The attack had gone like clockwork, accomplished with relentless efficiency, and had been over in less than forty minutes. For the sake of his promise, Khan had overseen the evacuation of the concubines from their enclosure himself, though he knew there were several that could not be saved as they remained deep in the compound with their Master. He trusted that his Marie-Thérèse would accept their loss as unavoidable, though given her gentle nature, she would certainly feel she bore a measure of guilt for their deaths. He would be glad to provide her comfort in that matter–and a thorough, lingering distraction over the next few days. At _least_ the next few.

He fueled his body with a meal of _mutton nahari_ , barely registering the taste as he wrote a note to be delivered to his dear little Tess. Though he had only met her days ago, he knew her well enough to know she likely had barely slept since he and his men had departed on their mission and would be anxiously awaiting word that he had safely and successfully returned.

_Ma_ _chérie,_

_The work is done, and as was inevitable from the moment of its conception, victory is mine. Your uncle’s compound will be a mere, smoldering shell by dawn. I have honored your plea, so that not only are you free of your forced servitude, Khatri’s women are free and safe as well. In the coming days, they will be provided means to return to their former lives, or to begin a new life here, following the dictates of their natures. Know that in this, as in all things, I_ always _fulfill my promises to those that I hold dear._

_Give me a brief time more to wash away the sweat and soot of battle, and then come to me as you have promised. I will make a start of learning your sweet secrets this night–and be assured, I will treasure every one of them._

_Yours, as you are mine,_

_N_

* * *

Khan had let the shower run lukewarm, cleansing his body even as he set aside all thought of strategy and future plans. He had more than earned the pleasure awaiting him–and he was determined that no distraction would come between him and his bliss.

He quickly toweled dry his hair and slipped into a pair of black silk pajama bottoms, then poured himself a whiskey and downed it in a single shot. The burn of it going down was glorious, but he would need no more than that. He wanted nothing to cloud the coming experience for him.

She did not knock this time, already comfortable enough in this place to exercise her freedom, though he heard her lock the door behind her. He smiled that she wished to guard their privacy so. Marie-Thérèse came to stand at the edge of the Persian rug, her sea-green eyes a-glitter and set upon him alone, drawing slow deep breaths as his hungry eyes raked across her form. His dear little Tess wore a dark green, satin robe, cinched lightly at the waist, though he couldn’t tell if she wore anything more underneath. Barefoot she stood, and for the first time he saw the daintiness of her feet and the dark lacquer of her polished toenails. A small but lovely detail, which he would be sure to remember on those difficult, war torn days when he would be leagues and leagues away from the pleasure she would give to him this night. 

His sweet Tess stood there, her supple body quietly straining with the tension of an arrow before it is released, waiting for his final summons before she found the mark that had been determined in the moment Khan had first laid eyes upon her. He shook his head and licked his lips, and when his slow smile broke upon his face, she flew across the space between them, lodging herself in his arms. She fit him precisely as he had expected, as he ran the fingers of one hand through her hair and she laid her tender cheek against his chest.

Her skin was hot, burning with the same desire coiled in his loins. “Oh, Noonien,” she whispered, laying soft kisses across his chest, “This night seemed to last forever!”

“Would that it were, _m_ _a_ _chérie_ ,” he chuckled, “And there would never be a need for us to stray from all the play I have in mind for us.”

“ _Mmmmmmm_ ,” she purred, running one palm down from his pec onto his abs and ending just above his navel, “I want to play with you. _Mmmmmm_ …to please you.”

He took her questing hand to kiss her palm, his voice like a caress, “Slowly, then, my precious one.” Khan draped her arm around his neck, “Moment by moment until we’re satisfied.” When she tilted her head back and offered up her lips, he took them mercilessly as she melted against him, the blissful little sounds she made adding fuel to the fire of his need.

* * *

Having swept her up into his arms, Khan had laid Tess upon his bed, enchanted by the soft desire in the sweet lines of her face, and in the way her hands sought to touch every inch of his skin. He wore a small, perpetual smile, for as much as he admonished her to go slowly, still she wanted to go fast.

He loosened the sash of her robe and laid bare her body, to discover a scanty lace bralette and matching panties waiting beneath. Goosebumps broke out across her flesh where it was exposed, and of course he had to soothe them with open-mouthed, hot-breathed kisses, working his way up from her taut belly onto the cleft between her breasts, to nuzzle her throat and land love bites where her neck met her shoulders. Marking her as his. Tess tangled her fingers deep in his hair, eventually guiding him back to her mouth, bravely nipping at his lips before drawing his tongue inside her mouth to suckle luxuriously.

At the same time, Khan slipped his fingers just inside the lace enclosing her luscious breasts, and soon discovered the bra closed in front, making it easier to release the clasp. Tess gasped against his mouth as he palmed her with both hands, arching up when he enclosed her fully, whimpering beautifully when he broke from her lips to lavish his mouth upon her pebbled nipples. Already, she was more delicious than he’d imagined, as he ran the tip of his tongue around her tight buds, each in their good time, to finally lave the flat of his tongue upon them as well.

Tess had smoothed her hands across his skin, her destination clear, until she insinuated them beneath his waistband, stretching enough to cradle his muscular arse in her palms. “Aw, fuck…” he grunted, “…fuck that’s good, baby…so…very…very…good…”

“Yesssssss,” she sighed, “Yes, Noonien. I want to please you…let me…let me show you how I feel about yoooooou…” With that proclamation, she moved her right hand between them and wrapped it around his erection. Tess gasped again, discovering his extraordinary length and girth, so that he chuckled against her breast.

“A gift of my genetics, my sweet–but I swear it works in much the same way as an ordinary man’s.”

A low hum rose from her chest as she began to explore his details, first running her thumb beneath the ridge at the head of his cock, then rubbing circles over the tip, moaning hard at her contact with his leaking slit. “Don’t stop, baby,” he cajoled her, “Don’t even think of stopping.”

“I won’t, darling…I can’t…I want…oh gawd I want…” she tightened her fingers around him, “I want a taste. I _need_ a taste, Noonien.” As if he needed any further urging, she moaned again. “Please. I need to take you in my mouth…”

Unbridled heat centered in his groin and shot through his pelvis and thighs; she had seemed to be perfectly demure on first impression, though he’d quickly discerned deep passion lived beneath her surface. But Khan had never expected so bold a proposition, thinking she might need some persuasion to engage in such an act. There would be no declining her demand.

“Here I was thinking you a gentle dove–but now I find you are fierce as a tigress.” He twined his fingers through hers, loosening her grip and then sat up on the edge of the bed, throbbing hard, and eager for her to proceed. “Show me, baby. Be as wicked with me as you will.”

She sat up as well, shimying out of her robe and bra, her ruddy nipples and the fullness of her breasts making his mouth water, even as she slid off the bed and onto the floor. Her eyes had gone dark with lust as she moved between his legs, and Khan ached for the fulfillment of her desire. He cupped her cheek once more, and mesmerized by the fullness of her parted lips, slipped his thumb inside her mouth, very aware it was a foretaste of what was coming soon.

Tess was bold and made quick work of pulling off his bottoms, running the edge of her nails up his inner thighs as he crossed his legs behind her, holding her in place. He groaned hard when she took his base in the crook of her thumb and forefinger, harder still as she lightly stroked his length with her other hand; taking full charge of his pleasure as she then began to tease her lips and tongue from bottom to tip. So lightly that he cursed–cursed and moaned a command for her to just get to it. She pulled away and pouted up at him, blinking slowly and licking her lips, finally lowering her mouth and licking across his slit. Khan was ever a man of taut control, but such a tease had him thrust his pelvis off the bed, and every urge he had was to hold her head in place so he could pump into her beautiful mouth.

Instead, he buried both hands in her hair, all his focus on those vital inches, the way she was stroking his balls, and the divine feel of her lips tasting his so intimately. When she finally took just his head into the wet heat of her mouth and began to suck, he cried out from the center of his chest, “Aaaaaah… _mon doux ange_!”

Time lost all meaning for him after that, though he did his best to remain aware of her limitations. Though she took him deeper, responding to the pump of his hips, he was careful not to force himself too far. Tess had started to moan in her efforts, holding onto his base lest he slip from her mouth or slide in beyond her capacity to bear. And ever her tongue suckling hard, worshiping him in the most elemental of ways.

When the tension throughout his pelvis, thighs, and arse became almost too exquisite to bear; when his frantic need for release pounded through his veins; when he felt his lungs burn as he gasped for air, Khan shouted out again, vaguely aware that he did so to prepare his beautiful, wicked little angel for the force of a mighty ejaculation. He came with the fury of a thunderclap, and the successive waves as he emptied himself were like echoes of that thunder.

Khan was seeing stars in the wake of his release, the tension in his muscles replaced with quiet euphoria, and it took him several moments to take note of the precious woman kneeling between his legs.How gently she attended to him now, allowing him to slip from her sweet mouth, bestowing quiet kisses on his thighs, her lips and chin slick with his spend so that he grabbed his silk pajamas to wipe away the remnants of his sin. Tess was tembling in the aftermath of her efforts, and when she finally met his gaze again, she appeared suddenly shy–as though ashamed by her abandon. 

“Sweet angel,” he coo’d, gentle as he guided her to sit on his lap, “You had me blazing for you since we met, just in anticipation. But now…oh now, _m_ _a_ _chérie_ …” He paused to allow her to nest her head upon his shoulder, “You have laid claim to my heart…”

“You needn’t say so, Sir,” she protested quietly, “I know my wantoness came as a shock…”

“Sssssssshhhhhhh, my sweet,” he told her, rocking her softly, loving the way she fit against him. “I am moved beyond words at the wonder of the gift you have given me….”

With her face still tucked in the nook of his neck, Tess shook her head in denial, though already he could tell she was beginning to believe him.

“…and I tell you,that this night _you_ have conquered one not easily conquered—and in the hours ahead I swear I will give back to you in abundance the loving you have given me.”

And with that, his gentle, generous woman nodded her acceptance of his tender regard, allowing him to lay her back upon the mattress, so to prove with actions what he had already pledged to her with words.


	5. Chapter 5

Marie-Thérèse lay stretched out before him, her tawny, unblemished skin a canvas that beckoned him to paint her with hot, wet kisses. With impatient, greedy love bites. And with other sorts of marks that would prove that she belonged solely to him. With his eidetic memory, Khan could easily number a full, decadent history of lovers, filled with scores of ordinary human women and a good share of female Augments as well. And when he had them, each had been glorious in his eyes, for however long lasted his fascination and physical need for them. Long after his fire for them had dwindled to naught, he still treasured each one, honoring each in his mind for the passion which they has spent upon him and the splendor of the unions they had shared.

But by the nature of his innescapable responsibilities, he was normally forced to sublimate his mighty sexual hungers in order to focus on leading and protecting his people, while planning for their safety and their future. Inevitably would come a point where the dam _must_ be left to burst, and the sharp, vital biological imperative that was a result of his enhanced genetic makeup _must_ seek its fruition. Released from such constraints, Khan would become a force of nature, nearly insatiable for days at a time—though he did his all to temper the violence of his passion with a tenderness he normally hid from the world. Such was the knife’s edge he traversed, and such was his expectation as gazed upon his newest woman. His lovely Marie-Thérèse. His divine little Tess.

She now gave over a steady stream of sighs as he stretched her arms above her head, first pining them to the mattress by her wrists, and then releasing them so he could slowly run his fingertips along their length and onto the upper swell of her breasts. Her mouth fell open and her sighs melted into a low moan from the deep of her throat when he ghosted the tips of his fingers repeatedly around their firm curves. Teasing her so that she arched up into his touch, his mouth watering at the sight of her sweet, tight buds, still denying them both the pleasure of tasting them until her body seemed to quake with need. “ _Douce colombe_ ,” he murmured, finally brushing his lips against one hard peak, “So ripe and so willing to give yourself over...” Tess hummed in submission, then gasped when he flicked his tongue upon her nipple, grazed it with his teeth and then sucked it into his mouth, while rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger. Her response to that came as an exquisite whimper followed by a sustained moan. The moment couldn’t be more perfect.

Khan played with her this way a while, releasing her succulent nub in favor of the other, trailing his lips across her flesh on the way, enamoured by the scent embedded in her skin, knowing that that the clean, fresh notes of citrus and jasmine would forever evoke this memory. Latching onto her even more forcefully, he drew her deep, causing Tess to hiss in surprise, even as she shot one hand to the back of his head, urging him to continue. He cupped the underside of her breasts in his palms---gently, patiently, as shivers of heat coursed through his blood. Flooding his brain with shameless covetousness, his groin with pure lust.

But that was easy enough for him to master, thanks to the delicious release she had already granted him. Now he could play with her at his leisure, building her own need for satisfaction, teasing her long and well before delivering on his promise. Khan would control his burdgeoning erection in much the same way he controled his other hungers when the situation required it. Through the power of his mind, through control of his breathing, and by his iron will---knowing that in the end, the pleasure he would reap from her would be the sort to blow an ordinary man’s mind. 

Tess arched up into his hands when he ran them onto her ribs while grazing along her collarbone. She sighed his name whe he swept his hands to her waist and then took hold of her hips, squeezing her flesh hard enough to briefly leave welts. This time she yelped, but in no way did she implore him to stop. Instead, she tried to reach for him, to take his stiff prick in hand, so that he stopped her hand and brought it to his mouth. Kissing each fingertip as he laid down his rules, “Not yet, m _a chérie...ma ange... Je dois goûter chaque morceau de toi d'abord...”_

She nestled her head into the mattress, “ _Mon Dieu...doit-il vraiment en être ainsi?_ “

“ _Oui_...yes, dear Tess. Yes...” He was kissing his way down her torso, feeling her shivers of desire beneath his lips, and then telling her, “Not _just_ to taste you, but to sample your slickness upon my lips and tongue. And feel you when you cum against my mouth...”

Dazed by his declaration, she melted beneath him, offering no further objection, as he arrived at the edge of her panties. Snug, pink satin, already rich with the scent of her arousal. Khan kissed his way down, lingering at the juncture of her thighs, possesive of what the material covered, then finally peeling it away. Tess gave another deep gasp as the cool air hit her bare skin; she was shaved, with only a narrow patch of hair upon her mound, and the sight enflamed him. She was beautifully pliant now that she understood his plan, not even needing the nudge he gave her to spread her thighs wide. He looked up to find her watching him, those entrancing, sea-green eyes half-lidded---and then began to ply his tongue upon her.

His first taste was like heaven, a thrill to his core, and like he had been meant to have her this way from the moment he laid eyes upon her. Eager and wet for him, Tess shifted up into his exploration, unashamed at the sounds he drew from her when he laved the flat of his tongue against her delicate lips again and again as she writhed beneath his play. Then using the tip of his tongue, he traced inside her lips up and down repeatedly, waiting for her to beg. Needing to hear her beg for him to pamper that divine bundle of nerves which would completely set her off. When he flicked his tongue against her opening, she jolted her pelvis upward, and cried out his name like a molten demand. 

_Yes, sweet angel_ , he was thinking, _that...that_ is _enough for me to give you what you need!_ His senses awash in her secret scent, he licked his way up and tickled her clitoris with the tip of his tongue, keenly aware that the fingers of both her hands were twisted into the sheet as she thrust herself forward to meet him mouth.

Though his prick throbbed to plunge deep inside her , Khan wanted to play her as long as he could, focusing on sucking her sweet bud and then alternating by laving his tongue against it. Her moans had grown in pitch and volume,and she had begun to grind against his mouth. Still holding her in place with one hand, he moved the other to slide two fingers into her pussy, which she greeted with a long, sustained ‘yeeeeeeeeeesssssssss!’.

When he curled those fingers inside her, Tess cried out his name again, both shocking him and pleasing him with what followed. “ _Baise-moi_ , _Noonien! Baise-moi comme ça, mon chérie ... juste comme ça ..._ ” 

“Mmmmmmmm,” he rumbled against her, reading from her frantic movements and the way her walls throbbed around his fingers that she would crest in only moments more. Khan gloried in the power that he felt and the certainty that no man had ever spoiled her this decadently. Moaning loud enough to make him glad his rooms were nearly soundproof, then babbling her bliss almost incoherently, Tess came with wild abandon. As she crested, he continued to suck on her clit, making sure she had passed the point of no return, before he dragged his tongue down to taste her as he’d ached to do from the beginning.

Coming down slowly, he walls gave way, her body subsiding into the mattress with her hands lying limp at her sides. Khan watched her through it all, smiling at such a sweet victory and anticipating what awaited him in just a wee time more. Of course, he’d give her body time enough to recover, for he had all the night left and beyond to enjoy the possibilities awaiting them. How serene she looked, her breath begining to slow, the flush of arousal just beginning to fade from her neck and chest, her every lovely detail imprinted on his memory as he laid down beside her, bussing kisses upon her hot flesh until she finally looked at him.

“There she is,” he chuckled, though Tess remained rather dazed looking. “Mmmmmm, such a pretty picture too.” He waited for her to focus on him, which evebtually she did with a lovely, if soppy, smile, and when he was sure she would take true note, he dipped his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean of her fluid.

Her mouth hung open again, her eyes flared in surprise, and in that instant he drew her face to his, kissing her deeply and sharing her flavor. Without hesitation she met his kiss with equal fervor, even lingering on his tongue as to indulge herself in every last bit of his offering. Once their lips parted, she tucked her face into his neck, spoiling him with soft kisses while murmuring, “I thought I might combust there, Noonien---I still might, if I think too much about what you did.”

Khan growled as he smiled, brushing his lips upon her brow, “I won’t be giving you a chance for that, m _a chérie._ There’s hours and hours left ahead for us, and I plan to fill them filling you. _N'est-ce pas?”_

Tess purred for him, reaching unimpeded this time, to take his erection in hand, “ _Oui, oui, mon...mmmm...mon prince_...and your wish shall be my command.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies to anyone fluid in French for any painful, glaring errors. I've been using Google Translate, though I'm sure it's not entirely accurate. I just want to capture the flavor of Marie-Thérèse's heritage.


End file.
